I hate and I love, and who can tell me why?
There is nothing more foolish than a foolish laugh. Risu inepto res ineptior nulla est
Away with you, water, destruction of wine!
Better a sparrow, living or dead, than no birdsong at all.
I write of youth, of love, and have access by these to sing of cleanly wantonness.
So a maiden, whilst she remains untouched, so long is she dear to her own; when she has lost her chaste flower with sullied body, she remains neither lovely to boys nor dear to girls.